Embrace the Corruption
by Kanariya 9
Summary: The Arrow of Retribution. The Scorn of the Moon. Two unrelated champions. Yet perhaps Diana and Varus have more in common than meets the eye. Probably a short-ish one-shot, may or may not turn M. More of a side project whilst working on my other fic.
1. Chapter 1

_Just an idea that came to mind and wrote a little of it down, not sure if I'll continue with it although I do like Varus x Diana but atm it's a slow start and looking more like Diana x Leona XD._

* * *

The cool afternoon breeze blew through the rock pillars lining the path to the Institute of War.

She stood in their shadows, leaning against the stone hewn column with her head bowed, waiting.

The Institute was rather new compared to the long history of Valoran but the building itself seemed to reflect the age of the land, the grey walls already weathered and splayed with thin fractures beneath the patches of dark green moss dotted in the crevices of the wall. One of the spires had already broken and the other showed the tell-tale signs of crumbling from the endless days of hot and cold. The steps into the building had been smoothed out, the middle of each step dipped from the constant tread of champions into and out of matches.

Another gust of wind whistled through the pillars, whipping up her long hair and swirling the dancing flames in the two urns by the entrance into the building. Absentmindedly, she spun her blade in her hand, glancing up to regard the orange sun.

Twilight would come soon.

Diana hadn't been part of the League for very long, having only been inducted in rather recently. After she had laid waste to her past she had abandoned Mt Taragon, promising to never return to that damned place under any circumstances. Those that had denied the moon's power had paid their price but there were others who still held unshakable faith in that cruel star whose light only blinds and burns.

Diana muttered under her breath, clenching her blade.

Leona.

Theirs history was a long one.

They had been friends at one point - if you could call it that. A time too long ago to remember. A brief meeting in passing.

Back when she was still too young to see the flaws of the Solari.

When she had been punished by the Elders for her curiosity in the moon, forced to kneel outside under the midday sun, the heat splitting rocks on the ground as she clenched her fists and endured the searing rays.

The elders and others had gathered to watch her, mock her, but as the hours went by they had eventually scattered. The last of them to leave was _her_. Leona.

Brushing past her, Leona had almost knocked her over, so weak and drained from the exertion and the enduring of her punishment. But she had slipped something to her, something cool and cold. A flask of water. Diana had gulped it down hungrily, turning to return the flask to her. But Leona had disappeared.

Diana shook her head. That had been too long ago. Things have changed. Their paths had split on that day, that fateful day Leona was to be executed for refusing to participate in the Rite of Kor. Since then, Leona was no longer the same, and neither was she.

And their paths taken them different ways yet ultimately in the same direction; towards each other, no longer as allies but as enemies.

Leona will not be forgiven.

When Diana had heard about the League, it seemed a petty thing, a playground for settling who stole whose toy. On hearing that Leona had joined though, she had rashly signed herself up too.

A pretty promise of being able to eliminate that one shinning beacon of falsehood was tempting to say the least.

The concept of this League and Institute of War and whatnot were trivial things, a mere platform for her to justly slay Leona, time after time. What relish it would bring, she had thought, to finally face each other as equals and let her see for real the true power of the moon.

The first time it had felt glorious.

There was chaos and blood and carnage all around her and she felt truly alive again. Yet as she tore her bloodied blade from Leona's stained golden armour there was something missing. Standing over her collapsed corpse as the adrenaline faded, it didn't feel quite right.

The second time the unease was stronger still. And each time after, the thrill dimmed little by little.

She had become frustrated, the matches just repetitions of the same thing, the same tantalising feeling always just out of reach. Soon Diana found herself slaying without discrimination, trying to find the thrill again, match after match, a living vengeance.

As time went by, she slowly came to realise what was missing. Now when she faced Leona on the battlefield she didn't even bother so savour the kill anymore – her death as was the same as any other kill.

It provided little relish, knowing she could slay her a thousand times over yet she would still stay bound to her damned Solari.

And no matter how many times she would decimate Leona's body, her crescent blade soaked with the blood of the sun, she would always come back and bring back with her that damned perseverance to the Solari and their ways.

She couldn't kill her baseless conviction to the sun.

And now she couldn't even kill Leona properly anymore, not when she had foolishly bound herself to the League and the workings of the battlefields in a moment of heated delusion, of fanciful promises.

Thing were going to change today though, Diana had had enough of the play fighting on the Fields of Justice.

Tonight, it will be for real.

* * *

_Credits to MiaZueSepp for the cover picture 'Diana x Varus?' on DeviantArt_


	2. Chapter 2

_NB: Some references to speculative/contemplative red posts about Diana and the rest is my fanciful fluff._

* * *

And so she had set up to meet with Leona in front of the Institute of War. In the open, where the truth shone brightest at night.

Diana tensed as she felt the wisp of a presence pass behind her. For a fraction of a second she was about to attack, arm tense and body poised.

But she caught herself; it wasn't right, it didn't feel like her. There was no glowing aura or air of sunshine.

Instead she caught a different scent in the breeze - a heady damp musk.

"Who is it."

Her tone was demanding, almost threatening. There were soft footsteps and Diana felt something stirring in the air. She readied her weapon.

Varus appeared from behind the pillar, bow resting in his hand by his side. Diana had met most of the champions before, usually at the end of her blade, but she had never bothered to notice them. All she needed was to be able tell them apart, tell 'friend' from 'foe' in battle.

She had yet to face Varus though. In fact, now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen him in any of her matches since she began not too long ago. Sure she had caught glimpses of him when the champions were all gathered together to be briefed on new patches but he was just another one of the many faces in the crowd of champions.

As such, she was a little intrigued by the… _substance_ that covered his lower half and his arms. Her gaze flickered over him. Even his bow seemed to be coated in it.

She had never taken much note of it before but looking now, it caught her attention that it didn't look quite like flames nor quite like liquid. It resembled more of a combination of both, and it seethed across his skin, almost like as if alive.

"Diana."

Varus' voice echoed to her, deep and mellow yet there was something unearthly in it. She tensed at her name as he stepped towards her, the fading light illuminating his pale face.

Diana lifted up her blade out of reflex, barring him from coming closer, the tip touching the hollow of his neck.

"Why are you here." He glanced at her blade, his face emotionless.

"I could ask you the same question." There was a tone of something like mild interest underneath his cold voice. Diana's eyes narrowed, unimpressed with his taciturn reply.

"Do you have any business here?" her icy tone unmissable; it was evident she wanted him to take his leave. Varus made no move to reply.

The silence was starting to infuriate her. She pressed her blade deeper into his neck, almost enough to draw blood. The corner of his mouth twitched up - as if amused, seemingly unperturbed at the sharp tip of her weapon digging into is neck.

"Just seeing for myself the true likes of another."

He looked up from her blade, his eyes locking onto hers. She could feel his gaze piercing her, seeing through her.

"We're forsaken. Both of us." He stated quietly.

The tip cut into his neck from the movement of his Adam's apple as he spoke. Varus appeared indifferent to the small beading of blood trickling down his neck.

Diana was about to refute out of reflex but something about his tone and expression made her hesitate. His face had been impassive and emotionless before but she could have sworn a downcast look flickered across his face just then.

He wasn't seeking to provoke her by that comment, she realised - it was a flat statement.

Cautiously, she lowered her blade from his neck.

"How so." she inquired, her tone rhetorical. He made no move to reply, merely glancing to her forehead. Unconsciously, Diana reached up to touch the sigil branded into her forehead.

"Marked for death." Varus answered to her gesture. She looked at him, her brow furrowing slightly.

In reply, he mirrored her movement but placing his hand over his stomach instead. Diana looked and underneath his fingers she barely made out elaborate lines traced over his skin, the colour pale and faded from time. They interwove with each other across his torso to form the shape of a guarding owl.

She was puzzled; what did he mean by this? That owl…why? Forsaken? How? Diana opened her mouth, a string of question forming on her tongue when a loud grating sound from behind caused her to turn around.

The stone doors of the Institute were opening as a group of champions streamed out, finished from a match. Her attention instantly snapped back to her original purpose, zoning in on the people coming through the doorway, searching for that painfully familiar face. Leona.

"She's not coming"

It was as if he knew what she had been thinking, his voice echoing to her from a distance away, carried by the wind.

Diana spun back to see his retreating figure as he walked off, white hair blowing in the breeze, leaving her with a niggling feeling of unsettled business.

Taking a step, she was about to call after him, intent with intrigue and Leona temporarily forgotten.


	3. Chapter 2 and a half

"Scary moon girl?" the voice from behind her was clumsy and oafish, coming from a hulking figure in a business suit with a large briefcase hanging in his hands.

Diana turned around, irritated at the interruption and moreover, at having to reply to the owner of said voice.

She would question Varus later then, she knew where he resided.

"Yes, Mundo?" her cold words were drawn out and slow, as if talking to a child. Or someone who was, most likely, mentally impaired.

What did he want this time?

"Who moon girl talk to?"

"Varus." She replied, irritated.

His face furrowed in strain as if processing a thought.

"He bad. Too good."

Diana sighed in frustration at his confusing blundering. A voice piped up from behind Mundo, carrying with it a rather pungent smell.

"He means that Varus is too strong." Twitch scuttled up to Diana, flies buzzing around him. Mundo nodded vigorously in agreement. She fought the urge to cringe away at the foul smell emanating from Twitch, instead resorting to breathing through her mouth. Seems they both just finished a match.

"We're facing him tomorrow, we can't beat him." He tittered, his head twitching as he flicked his ears against the flies.

"But we can if he is… _handicapped_." an evil little grin forming as his eyes darted around, landing on Diana on the word 'handicapped".

She frowned, not quite liking the way this is going.

"You were quite chummy with him." Twitch continued on, an evil gleam in his eyes. "You could get close to him, yes? Maybe…" his nefarious voice trailed off.

"You want me to do something to him?" she replied, slightly incredulous.

"You good assassin, you quick sneaky." Mundo finally managed to struggle out his thoughts but Twitch quickly swatted him in disagreement.

"You can't kill him because of the bindings." continued Twitch. "Which is a pity." He tittered.

"But you _could _do a little something to his bow eh? Maybe a little tinkering?" He flicked his tail.

Diana stood there, a little disbelieving at being requested such an obscure and odd favour.

"So you want me to _sabotage_ his bow?" She raised an eyebrow, a tone of mild dissatisfaction in her voice.

"If it's no trouble for you." Twitch crossed his paw and dipped his head in what appeared to be a courteous bow.

"Or if you _can_." He added.

Diana scowled, flipping her blade over her shoulder.

"Of course I am capable of such a small thing as this." Her tone frosty.

"I'll leave things to you then." Twitch nodded at her, flicking his ear.

"We'll see." She replied curtly, her voice cold.

* * *

_Dear god what was i thinking when I wrote this? Okay so advice would be much loved, what do you think about this bit? I wasn't too sure about this section, it was supposed to be at the end of chapter 2. What do you think about this part? Good, no good, out of the blue, weird, amusing etc? If it's no good, I'll scrap it and try for something else._


	4. Chapter 3

Diana waited around til dusk but there was no sign of Leona.

She had stalked the entrance of the Institute, waiting for her to appear, unsuspecting, from a match. There were times when she had almost attacked but it was never to be. Another different, golden clad champion or just a glowing reflection from the fires by the doorway. Just more bitter resentment to add to the tension. It was as if Leona were taunting her, unknowingly. Making a fool of her with this cat and mouse game.

What a foolish mouse.

She should know that there is no other way. There will be only one ending and the mouse will realise it cannot hide forever.

The thin sliver of the sun had finally dipped under the horizon when the doors opened one last time as she prowled around the entrance. Diana readied her blade.

It could only be her.

Everyone else had left, they will lock the doors soon and it was now or never. Even if it wasn't she didn't care, agitation was setting in. If it wasn't Leona, well, consider the Institute lucky that they had one less champion to manage.

The sound of armour clad footsteps neared the doorway.

A glimpse of golden armour and that was more than enough reason – she lunged.

She had expected to feel her blade digging into soft flesh, cleanly slicing through the vulnerable throat. Instead there was a loud clash of metal on metal and her blade caught in the hooked spires of a large lance as her prey parried her blow. The sound reverberated through the cold night.

"Who dares to attack me?" An authoritative male voice.

She cursed. Today was not to be it seemed.

Diana withdrew her blade but was unexpectedly met with resistance when he twisted his lance, locking her blade in his.

"Diana."

Jarvan lowered his weapon and in turn, pushed hers down. The glimpse of golden she'd seen had been from his damn armour, extravagant thing that it is. Such an unwieldy and cumbersome thing to wear for battle compared to hers.

He eyed her expectantly for an explanation - one usually better have a damn good reason for attacking a Demacian Prince. She wasn't going to grant him one - not if she could help it, nosey nuisance that he is.

"You're not the one I want."

She tried again to remove her blade. He glared at her. With a swift thrust, he speared his weapon into the ground, pinning down her blade. The Institute summoners were most definitely not going be impressed at the sizeable hole on their front steps.

"Explain your actions, Diana." He took a step forward, a figure of rightful authority and intimidation. Typical. All big words and no stuffing, a figurehead through and through. Always with their brandishing of brute strength and damned justice and all that.

Demacians.

"I do not need to explain to you, Prince. This does not concern you." She stepped towards her blade but he barred her with his arm. Diana glared at him.

Troublesome fool.

"Return me my weapon." She demanded, stepping up to him and challenging his glare.

If she couldn't acquire Leona today then Jarvan may suffice. At this rate, he could make for a decent sacrifice and it'll probably sate her denied thirst for a while. She shook herself mentally and pushed away that thought. However tempting and easy it could be, he was the Prince after all and Demacia probably wouldn't take too kindly at having their heir to the throne becoming a quartered corpse. Not to mention he still had her weapon at this moment.

"Diana. Jarvan."

She tensed as Jarvan turned to the voice – she hadn't heard him approaching. What was _he_ doing here?

"Varus." Jarvan greeted him stiffly before turning back to Diana whilst she ignored him.

Varus, on the other hand, was indifferent to her coldness, walking up to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"You're late, Diana." She tried to shrug him off but his grip was firm and unyielding. Steering her a little away from Jarvan, he subtly leant in and whispered.

"_Play along_."

His attitude… Such an insufferable _gentleman_ that he is, she thought sarcastically. She managed to shrug off his hand - rather forcefully – before turning back to Jarvan.

"I know, I got caught up in _something_." She glowered at Jarvan on the last word. Varus chuckled, much to her irritation. She stiffened as he slid his arm around her waist. He was talking 'helping' a little too far…

"If you please, Jarvan, she has a… _meeting_ to attend to." His voice was causal but there was a steely, if not threatening, undertone to it.

"And she is already late. So if you will excuse us…" His voice trailed off as he threw a glance towards her lodged blade. When Jarvan made no move he offhandedly tilted his bow, as if amused by it's flaring tendrils as they stirred before glancing to him.

Jarvan gave a dissatisfied grunt before grasping the hilt and dislodging his lance, the crescent blade clattering to Diana's feet.

"So be it." He eyed them warily.

"Thank you" she replied as she bent to snatch up her blade and extract herself from his arm in a fluid motion. She threw them a glare before turning and briskly leaving.

Varus gave him a curt nod before following her departure down the stairs as well.

* * *

"Why are you following me?"

The dark trees lining the path stretched out into the darkness, silhouetted against the rising moon's light. Night had fallen and the first stars were dotting the sky as little pinpoints of light lit up in the distance where the champion residencies were. Gravel crunched under her footsteps as she made her way back towards them, blade trailing by her side.

If it weren't for her senses, attuned by the battlefields, she wouldn't have been able to tell she was being tailed. As such, she could make out - barely discernibly - the soft crunch of soft footsteps some distance behind her, the shift in the air, the very faint yet familiar musky scent.

Diana halted and she heard his steps come to a slow as he neared her.

* * *

_Sorry but mid semester break has ended and back to school again so probably won't be updating in a while, plus exams are coming up so most likely will be putting this on hiatus till after exams. I will finish this though. Eventually XD_


End file.
